Vakna
by AK151
Summary: More than four years after the events of Inheritance, evil stirs again in Alagaesia, and new heroes as well as old must rise to face it. Among them, a bitter elven warrior, an honorable Kull, a clever thief, an aspiring scholar, and a sharp-witted dwarf all must band together to face threats greater than anything since the days of Galbatorix.
1. Prelude

**This is a story I've had in my head for almost two years now (unlike my dead Skyrim story, which was written on a whim with no real direction, hence its failure); I've tried writing it down before, but I scrapped the project and am now restarting it after a lot of consideration. I have no idea if I'm going to end up continuing this, but I hope I do, as the story is something I find very intriguing, and I hope others will agree. If you aren't able to guess from the first few paragraphs (and the description), this is a continuation of Inheritance. I spent a lot of time trying to make these chapters somewhat decent, so hopefully that paid off. Please, feel free to leave feedback so I can improve. Thank you, and enjoy!**

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Lyvia woke with a gasp, her hand instinctively reaching for a knife she realized too late was not there. She took a second to calm herself, absorbing her surroundings. Light pricked through the thin fabric of the tent she had been sleeping inside, and rays of light shone through the small opening held open by her older brother, Frewin. His face was the fair face all elves shared; short, well-groomed, raven-black hair covered the top of his head; his features were angular and his face was like that of a feline; his ears culminated in sharp points. A concerned look adorned his face as he watched his sister.

"Same dream?" he asked sympathetically.

She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "It's always the same dream," she sighed. "The same nightmare."

"Hopefully it'll pass soon," Frewin said doubtfully.

"It's been almost five years since Gil'ead, Frewin," Lyvia growled in response. "I doubt it'll simply 'pass'. You told me time heals all wounds. Why not this one?"

"I don't think scars heal, Lyvia."

"No," she breathed, "I suppose they don't." Frewin left the entrance of the tent, allowing the flap he was holding open to fall and block the light flooding in. Lyvia took a moment to get up, stretching and lifting the tent's flap, her eyes quickly adjusting to the bright light. She looked around; the forest looked very different at night. She saw Frewin extinguishing the small fire they had tended the night before. "How long do you suppose they'll be?" she called.

"Not sure," Frewin responded. "You never know what delays one might face in the forest."

"True enough," Lyvia muttered. She wandered around their small clearing where they had set up their camp. They were waiting for a procession of elves journeying west, with orders to continue with them once they meet. The procession was guarding something of immeasurable value: a dragon egg. Frewin and Lyvia were the final two members of the guard tasked with keeping this treasure safe.

Since the end of the great Rider War against the mad king Galbatorix, three dragon eggs had hatched, one for the monstrous urgal race, one for the dwarves under the mountains, and one for the humans who claimed the west of Alagaesia as their home. This was the fourth to journey throughout the land, its guardians stopping at various places to check for potential Dragon Riders; the dragons in these eggs were said to only hatch for the person they thought would be best for them, sometimes remaining dormant for centuries until the proper person was met.

Lyvia paced back and forth silently, trying to occupy herself. "Patience," Frewin chided, "they'll be here."

"Patience is a virtue I don't have," Lyvia responded. Tired of pacing back and forth, she walked towards the tent, entering it briefly. She came out with two swords of fine, elvish make. One, Fyrn, belonged to her, and was her weapon during the Rider War. The other, Baen, belonged to her mother, killed in battle during the war; Lyvia had kept the blade since, as a memento. The thin weapons were elegant and beautiful, even in their sheaths. They both had a single edge, and their blades had a strange curve, almost forming a very slight "S". The blades had equally unique cross-guards: a single sliver of metal starting at the base of the blade and creating a small arc, ending parallel to the weapon.

"I'll be back," Lyvia said, brushing past Frewin. Fighting, even fighting alone against opponents envisioned in her head, helped to calm her nerves.

"Hold on," Frewin stopped her, leaning down to pick up his own blade. "It's boring fighting against thin air."

Lyvia chuckled, appreciative of the company. "Alright then," she half-smiled, "let's see if I'm still better than you are."

Frewin shook his head and stepped back; their camp was to be their battleground. He drew his thin blade and examined it for a moment. "Gëuloth du knífr," he muttered, the words of the Ancient Language infused with magical power. A blue spark appeared between the two fingers he had extended. They ran the length of the weapon, creating a small protective barrier around the blade. When Frewin was sure of his handiwork, he ended the spell and readied himself for combat, swinging the blade a few times to get used to it.

Lyvia drew both of her own swords, repeating the process Frewin had demonstrated to make her weapons safe. When both blades were guarded, she whirled them around a few times in her hands. Typically, wielding a single sword in each hand was considered impractical, but Fyrn and Baen seemed but feathers in Lyvia's hands; she was more than capable of using both weapons at the same time. She drew her right foot back, turning her left hip to Frewin; both swords' tips faced her opponent.

The combatants were frozen, waiting for the other to make a move. Lyvia's breathing slowed and her eyes narrowed. The grip on her blades tightened. Suddenly, she exploded forward, covering the dozen feet between her and Frewin in three bounds, her blades swinging forward together in a single upwards arc. Frewin blocked the blow, buts its power made him stumble back. Lyvia capitalized on this mistake, attacking simultaneously with both her weapons. Frewin dodged expertly, parrying when necessary, but Lyvia's assault left him with no room to counter.

For ten minutes they traded blows, going back and forth. Wanting to test her own defense, Lyvia allowed Frewin to attack, and the elf came at her with blinding speed, weaving his blade in intricate patterns to try and get around the strong defense her two swords created. Lyvia donned a feral grin, enjoying the thrill of the fight. She practiced her footwork, circling Frewin and trying to go back as little as possible. Several times she outmaneuvered her brother, only holding back to continue the fight. Her arms soon grew tired and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She decided to end it.

Lyvia swung again with both blades together, her swords clashing with Frewin's own blade. The elf stood his ground against the assault, and for a brief moment they were at an impasse, their weapons locked, one trying to gain the advantage over the other. That moment passed in the blink of an eye. Lyvia jerked Baen in her left hand to the side, the weapon's cross-guard catching Frewin's sword and pulling it aside. Fyrn jabbed outward, coming to rest on the side of Frewin's neck. He froze as the weapon came into contact with his skin.

"Dead," Lyvia said confidently, panting and trying to recover from the physical exertion of the duel.

"Dead indeed," Frewin replied, equally exhausted. They had fought furiously for more than half-an-hour. "Though to be fair," he began, pausing intermittently for breath, "you've got two swords to my one."

"That's your fault," laughed Lyvia. "And don't forget, I was holding back to savor the fight."

"Right," Frewin laughed, sheathing his blade and setting it down. "Feel better?"

"A bit," Lyvia replied, mimicking Frewin and placing her two weapons in their sheaths. "It's been a while since I've had a good fight."

"Not sure what you'd define as a 'good fight'," Frewin replied. "In my experience, there are no 'good fights'. There are fights to hone skills, which I consider practice, and there are fights for survival, which usually aren't 'good'."

"What about the War?" Lyvia asked, almost immediately regretting broaching the subject.

"That was a slaughter," Frewin replied darkly. "I don't know how many I killed. I know you killed several hundred at least with those swords of yours. And I know that to this day the scenes of that damned War haunt me to this day."

Lyvia stopped talking, and deafening silence filled the air. Neither Frewin nor Lyvia were willing to try and overcome it, both resigning to not speak until necessary. The mention of the War had brought on too many painful thoughts, too many grief-ridden memories; the siblings could not help but remember those close to them that had been lost in the great battles.

Minutes turned to quiet hours. Neither elf stirred, both too absorbed in their thoughts and emotions. And so they waited, both secretly hoping the procession would come soon and end the terrible silence that perforated the air.

Almost an hour later, branches rustled at one end of the camp, alerting both inhabitants. Frewin got up, but Lyvia bouded forward, one of her blades in-hand. They both relaxed when an elf emerged from the foliage; he had hair like starlight and contrasting black eyes, no doubt manipulated in some way using magic, as some elves were wont to do with their appearance. "Galmar!" Frewin greeted, grinning and instinctively touching his first two fingers to his lips, as was customary amongst elves. "Atra esterni ono thelduin."

Galmar inclined his head and mirrored Frewin's movement. "Atra du everinya ono varda." With the traditional greeting concluded, the two friends laughed and embraced each other. Galmar turned to Lyvia. "Good to see you, Lyvia," he said with a smile.

"Likewise, Galmar," Lyvia replied. She did not bother to mimic Frewin in his greetings, as she found them unnecessarily courteous in most cases. "Where's the rest of the procession?"

"Close by," he responded, motioning behind him. "I went ahead to meet you and tell you to pack up so we don't have any delays. We want to reach the edge of the forest by nightfall."

"Right," Frewin acknowledged, quickly walking around the camp and packing a small knapsack of things that couldn't be left behind. Lyvia followed suit, and in a few minutes they were ready to leave, nodding to Galmar.

"They'll be here in a moment," Galmar said, taking a seat next to Frewin; the two exchanged small talk to pass the time.

"More waiting," Lyvia muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She started to pace back and forth around the now empty clearing, trying to occupy her time. Fyrn was belted to a black cord encircling her waist. Baen rested on her back, its own belt reaching diagonally across her dark green tunic. The garb was a gift from her mother, imbued with several protective wards. An intricate gold circlet, set with a single emerald, adorned her forehead and held back her raven-black hair, exposing her pointed ears. It was a gift from her father before his death during the last battle of the Rider War, and was enchanted to warn the wearer if they were in danger. It had helped her several times in the past, and was one of her most treasured possessions.

Lyvia sighed and closed her eyes, extending her conscience out, her mind touching that of every living thing in the clearing. She reached out further, hoping to sense the procession coming. Eventually, she felt something different from the insects in the foliage and immediately withdrew, opening her eyes. "They're coming," she said to Frewin and Galmar.

They both got to their feet and turned around expectantly towards the area Lyvia was motioning towards. After a moment, several elves emerged from the trees, laden with packs of supplies. Most had some sort of weapon, mainly swords, with a few spears amongst them. More elves trickled into the clearing, greeting the three waiting elves. They mingled for a few minutes, and even Lyvia talked with a few friends, chuckling on occasion. Eventually, she escaped the crowd, only to find herself face-to-face with another elf.

This one had an air of importance about her, and she carried herself with confidence, almost like royalty. Despite this, a friendly smile adorned her face. Golden hair flowed down past her shoulders, and deep, brown eyes recognized Lyvia at once.

"Lyvia," the elf greeted, inclining her head and touching her two fingers to her lips.

"Teyri" Lyvia responded, mimicking the motion. "Atra esterni ono thelduin."

Teyri chuckled. "Atra du everinya ono varda," she concluded the greeting. "You aren't usually one for courtesy."

"Not usually. But you're in charge of a dragon egg. That counts for something, even to me."

Teyri chuckled. "Thank you." She looked around. "Something's bothering you," she observed.

"What's with all the security?" Lyvia asked; Teyri's observation was exact. "Two dozen elves, all armed, as if we were in a war."

"You never know what threats may be awaiting," Teyri said. "The unknown is frightening, even to us."

"I suppose that's true," Lyvia muttered. "But I thought this was peace-time. Are we not at peace?"

"We are," Teyri replied. "But it is a cautious peace, I think."

Lyvia nodded, sighing. "Where's the dragon egg?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I have it," Teyri responded. "It's in my pack. Not much other place for it until we get to Ceunon."

"Seems unceremonious, to leave a dragon egg in a backpack," Lyvia observed.

"Then perhaps I'm using the wrong term," Teyri said, gesturing towards a milk-white silky pouch a few feet away; it seemed carefully woven and was laced with beautifully intricate designs. A drawstring held it shut, but through a small gap a faint, golden light could be seen.

Lyvia chuckled. "Wrong term indeed." The two friends stood in silence for a moment before Teyri moved on. "It's time to go. I think we've lingered here long enough."

"Agreed," Lyvia muttered under her breath.

"Galmar!" Teyri called, catching the attention of the elf captain. "Let's go."

He nodded and motioned for everyone to move. The procession continued, trickling out of the clearing until it was empty. Lyvia took up the rear of the group, joined by Frewin, whose own sword he had belted to his hip. "Well, that was nice," he said.

"I prefer walking," Lyvia remarked. "At least we're getting somewhere. Standing around and talking just seems like wasting time."

Frewin shook his head and chuckled. "Not going to argue with you on that."

"Good idea," Lyvia replied, laughing. "You'd lose."

"Funny," Frewin joked dryly. "You think the egg's going to hatch in Ceunon?"

"No," Lyvia responded curtly.

"Why do you say that?" Frewin asked.

"Let's think for a moment," Lyvia began. "A dragon hatches when they find the right person, correct? I don't even know how many people there are in Alagaesia. Out of all of those people, what do you think is the chance that one and very specific person will be in Ceunon?"

"If it were as improbable as you say," Frewin argued, "the dragons would never have hatched for anyone."

"A fair point," Lyvia admitted, "but still, you've got to admit yourself that the chances are low."

"Maybe," Frewin replied. "But you never know."

"No," Lyvia murmured. "I suppose you don't."

The two walked with the procession for a long while, talking about meaningless or irrelevant topics to pass the time. Sometimes they would feel around their surroundings for life and share what they thought was interesting with each other. They continued until the sun sank below the trees, and Teyri called out for everyone to stop.

With a spell and a song a clearing was made and the elves relaxed, setting down their packs and taking out various things. Some pitched small tents, others started small fires using the shrubs in the clearing. Groups gathered around these warm fires and talked and chatted. Some elves ate berries or drank from silver flasks, whilst others took small rests. A few took up watch, strung bows in their hands.

Lyvia relaxed for the first time in the day and joined Teyri, who was sitting apart from the groups. The pouch was discarded beside her, and in her lap sat the dragon egg, its golden shell emitting a faint glow. "Isn't it beautiful?" Teyri asked. Lyvia was mesmerized for a second by the egg; the light from the fires reflected off of the brilliant hide, making it gleam as faint shadows danced around it.

"It is," Lyvia muttered. "Do you mind if I...?" She trailed off, reaching her hand out towards the egg.

"No," Teyri replied, smiling and handing the egg over to Lyvia. She examined the object with scrutiny, taking in every little detail. The shell was opaque, giving the egg the appearance of a stone. Lyvia closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, searching for the conscience of the dragon. She felt a dull and muted thought and withdrew immediately. Dragons had always fascinated her. "Incredible," she murmured.

Teyri chuckled. "The queen gave the egg to me when we first set out. I've carried it for almost three months, and I never tire of its beauty."

"How could you?" Lyvia asked, turning the egg around. The fire's light on the dull shell was hypnotizing, and the two elves watched the dancing shadows for a long while.

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**There's chapter one for all of you. I hope you enjoyed the read (yes, it was a lot of boring exposition, but I was able to sneak a small fight scene in there to liven things up, so there is that). Tell me what you think of the characters, as I would like to know (really, I would). Thank you again for reading, and good day!**


	2. Wilae Abr Sundavar

**Here's Chapter 2. This one was tough to write, as I had to push a few boundaries while trying to prevent the suspension of disbelief. I'm not sure how well I pulled it off. If you're squeamish, this chapter might make you cringe a little, as I pride myself in at least _trying_ to be detail-oriented (there's a reason I changed the story's rating to "M". Just saying). That being said, if you can get past that, and if it is somewhat believable, then I dearly hope you enjoy (or at least, read)!**

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A commotion made them both look up. The elves had all sprung to their feet in the presence of a lone figure at the edge of the clearing. A sword was belted to its hip, and a cloak and hood obscured it from the view of the elves. The only discernible feature was a deadly looking gauntlet on the figure's left arm; each finger seemed like a small blade, and the entire hand seemed encased in metal.

Some of the elves clenched their swords in caution. Lyvia tried to feel for the figure's mind, but was alarmed when she felt nothing. She looked to Teyri, who exchanged a nervous, almost fearful glance. "Hide the egg," she whispered in an incredibly faint voice.

Lyvia nodded, diverting her attention from the figure to weave a spell. When she finished, the egg vanished from sight. Lyvia slid it into a small nook at the base of a tree trunk and got up, joining the formation of elves. She glanced once towards the egg's hiding place and then transferred her gaze to the figure.

"Who are you?" Galmar called, his voice laced with suspicion.

"I thought the elves were courteous," the figure replied; its smooth, quiet voice made Lyvia shudder. It threw back its hood, and in an instant dread filled the elves. A pale face met them, long crimson hair flowing down, almost meeting its shoulders. A matching set of cruel, crimson eyes bored into Galmar. It was a Shade, an abomination created by sorcery; they were known as some of the most dangerous creatures in Alagaesia. The only way to kill one was to stab it through the heart.

Lyvia was the first to draw her swords, the two blades out in the blink of an eye, and the rest of the group followed suit, drawing their weapons. The archers in the rear placed arrows on their bowstrings, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

The Shade touched its first two fingers to its lips, a mocking smile forming on its face. "Aren't you going to greet me, elf?" it asked, laughing evilly. Galmar's eyes narrowed. "What is it your kind says? 'Atra esterni ono thelduin,'? Though I believe the inferior typically speaks first."

"What do you want, Shade?" Galmar asked, ignoring the Shade's mocking words; the suspicion in his voice turned to hostility.

"I want the dragon egg," it replied bluntly.

Galmar's eyes narrowed. "We swore to protect the egg with our lives. Do you really think we'll give it up easily?"

"I don't believe you swore to do anything," the Shade countered. "Perhaps you believe you have an obligation, but I doubt there is an oath. That being said, there are two ways this ends: you all leave after giving me the egg, and this ends in peace."

"I'd like to hear the other option," Galmar growled.

The Shade's voice turned cruel and dangerous. "The other option, obviously, is for me to kill you all, walk over your lifeless corpses, and take the egg myself."

"You can try," Galmar hissed. "And you will fail."

The Shade sighed. "So be it." It drew its sword, a wicked blade, unlike anything any of the elves had ever seen before; two thin, parallel blades extended from the hilt, creating a set of prongs with a large gap between them. Each edge looked razor sharp, and the ends of each blade culminated in a deadly point. The fingers of the Shade's left hand spread out, the gauntlet creating a menacing appearance.

The elves gripped their weapons tightly and nervously; Shades were dangerous, and despite the disparity in numbers, the fight would be tough. Lyvia and Frewin stood shoulder to shoulder with Teyri, the trio near the center of the group. Lyvia gripped Fyrn and Baen tightly, her heart pounding at the approaching battle. She had no idea what would happen, but a small part of her was confident that they could defeat the Shade, if only due to their superiority in numbers.

The fiend stood motionless, unnerving a few of the elves. A cruel grin was etched on his face, as if he knew something the elves did not.

In an instant there was confusion. The archers in the rear of the group screamed in pain, causing their comrades to turn. They saw creatures darting back and forth stabbing wildly with short swords, felling elves left and right; the surprise allowed them to kill ten of the elves' number before the group knew what was happening.

The attention of the group turned to the attackers in the rear, and even Galmar turned around. In three bounds the Shade closed the distance between them. Galmar whirled around a second too late, and his eyes widened in shock as the wicked blade impaled him, exiting through his back. The Shade, not even pausing, released the sword and brought its left gauntlet to the throat of another elf, the spiked fingertips ripping through the skin and bone and severing his spine.

The Shade wrenched its sword out of Galmar's corpse, tossing the body aside. By this time, the elves in the front had acknowledged the Shade as the major threat; the ones in the rear were fighting the creatures that had ambushed them. An elf stabbed forward towards the Shade, but it batted the sword aside with its gauntlet and brought its own blade around, slicing through the neck of the elf and separating his head from his body. Without pause, the Shade brought its sword in an arc to bat aside another sword blow, lashing out with its gauntlet and impaling the side of the elf's head with the metal hand's spiked fingers.

Another two elves attacked at once, but the Shade caught the blade of one of them with its gauntlet. The wielder tried to overpower the grip of the Shade, but her strength wasn't enough to break the hold. The Shade fenced for a brief moment with the other elf, but after a few clashes the Shade stabbed forward and impaled the neck of the elf. It turned its attention to the other, who had released her blade and drawn a small dagger, stepping forward to stab the Shade in the heart. The Shade brought the elf's own blade down, and she stepped into the edge, her throat being cut open by the blade as the Shade wrenched it to the side. The abomination stepped back for a brief moment, deciding to observe the rest of the events unfold.

The remaining elves in the rear had closed into a tight circle, fending off attacks from the strange creatures; they were as fast as the elves, and as strong, but not as skilled. They did not stand and fight, instead attacking and retreating back into the foliage, relying on surprise. The warriors tried to reach out and sense the creatures' thoughts, but, like the Shade, there was nothing to sense.

One of the creatures jumped out at Lyvia, and she barely parried its short sword with Baen in her left hand, but in a moment of indecision, the attacker paused for a moment. Lyvia thrust Fyrn, her right sword, forward, killing her foe with a single stab. Beside her were Frewin and Teyri, along with three other elves, all looking around cautiously, on guard for an attack.. Lyvia sparred with another of the creatures as it attacked, crossing her blades to block a downwards strike; she wrenched her opponent's sword to the side and buried Fyrn in its neck. With an infuriated growl she ripped the blade out of the creature, slicing its neck open.

"Enough!" the Shade called out, suddenly. The attacks stopped and the elves turned their heads towards the Shade, their blades up, ready for an attack. With the reprieve, Lyvia was able to examine the corpses of the creatures she had killed, trying to figure out what exactly they were.

Their faces were avian, with long, sharp beaks. Their bodies had a thick carapace that acted as body armor. They were thin and boney, with bulges on their backs. Small, black, lifeless eyes stared at the circle of elves. Lyvia vaguely recognized the creatures from descriptions she had read about: they were Ra'zac, an evil predatory race thought to be wiped out before the Dragon War by the Dragon Riders. Two survived this purge with their parents, but these survivors were believed to have been killed during the war with Galbatorix. Lyvia looked around. She had managed to kill two of the Ra'zac; the other elves did not have as much luck. She knew there were more of the creatures, and this surprised her; the Ra'zac were supposedly hunted to extinction.

The Shade walked forward slowly and menacingly, drawing the attention of the elves. It calmly stepped over the corpses of Galmar and the five other elves it had killed, coming to a halt close to the group. "I'm going to ask you one last time," the Shade growled. "Give me the egg."

"Stab yourself in the heart," Lyvia retorted in fury.

"Kill them," the Shade hissed, addressing the Ra'zac. The elves prepared for another onslaught from the foliage behind them.

The ensuing attack killed the three elves beside Frewin and Teyri; the latter two barely avoided the blades of the Ra'zac. Lyvia's two swords proved invaluable, and she whirled them around expertly, keeping the attackers at bay. With only three elves remaining, the Ra'zac ceased their surprise attacks, stepping out from the shadows to engage the elves directly. There were five of them. Lyvia, Frewin, and Teyri fought back-to-back, untouched by the Ra'zac. Another of the creatures fell to Frewin and Teyri.

The Shade sighed, irritated by the losses and surprised by the tenacity of the last three elves. "Stop!" it commanded, and the Ra'zac once again backed off. "You three," it said. "There is no crime in surrendering when you cannot win. Lay down your arms and give us the egg, and we will leave you unharmed."

Lyvia once again spoke for the group. "I'd die before betraying my people."

The Shade's upper lip curled upwards and the grip on its sword tightened. "Then you'll die." It advanced, motioning for the Ra'zac to stay away, intending to finish what they could not. The trio of elves readied themselves for the attack, knowing fully well the capabilities of the Shade.

In an instant it was upon them, focusing on Frewin with its heavy but lightning-fast blows. For a brief moment the elf was overwhelmed, but Lyvia and Teyri pressed the offensive, the three swords proving too much for the Shade. It backed up, weaving its blade to and fro to keep the blades away. Despite this, a confident and sinister grin was on the Shade's face.

Lyvia tried to stab the fiend in the heart, but the Shade quickly batted her blade aside and punched her in the jaw with its metal gauntlet, stunning her and sending her flying several feet. Teyri stabbed forward, but the Shade caught the blade in between the two prongs that made up its own sword. At the same time, the Shade grabbed Frewin's sword with its gauntlet, for a brief instant holding both swords at bay. But then the Shade maneuvered its blade to the side and shoved it across, creating a thin slice across Frewin's chest. At the same time, the Shade slammed the butt of its sword into Teyri's face, forcing her to recoil.

Time slowed for Lyvia, recovered as she was from the Shade's blow, rushed forward, a few bounds away from the battle. As Teyri recoiled, the forked sword came up and down. Frewin's own sword was useless, held in the Shade's grip as it was. The wicked pronged blade sliced clean through Frewin from neck to hip, bisecting him diagonally. Lyvia's eyes widened in shock as her brother, in a single instant, met his bloody end.

She closed the rest of the distance, just as the Shade released Frewin's sword. Both Baen and Fyrn sliced through the air furiously, each blow that of a hammer with the speed of a loosed arrow. The Shade once again went on the defensive, its efforts doubled as an enraged Teyri recovered and joined the fight. The Shade moved gracefully, dodging expertly what it could not block. It maneuvered the two elves so that they were almost in a line, forcing them to get around each other to attack. In this manner, it singled out Teyri, batting her sword up with its own and slamming her in the gut with its gauntlet, mustering all of its strength. The elf dropped from the blow.

Lyvia circled around, furiously hammering the Shade's sword and gauntlet. The confident grin had been replaced with a look of concentration as the Shade found itself facing one who was equal in skill. Fyrn and Baen whirled, almost as if they had lives of their own, wanting dearly to taste the blood of their foe. Lyvia's rage became her weapon as she began to overwhelm the Shade, who was almost becoming desperate. Fyrn slipped through the forked sword and sliced the Shade on the cheek, drawing forth crimson blood.

The Shade growled furiously and pressed an attack, trying to regain lost footing. Lyvia maneuvered to the side, circling her opponent and attacking furiously when possible, pushing the Shade back. But the rage slowly subsided and Lyvia's arms began to grow heavier. Despite this, she fought on, trying to hold until Teyri recovered from the Shade's devastating attack. For five minutes Lyvia dueled with the Shade, holding her own and being rewarded with the occasional gap in her enemy's defense, allowing for a quick strike. However, she had no opportunity to attack the heart, and she knew that was the only way she could end the battle. Lyvia focused her attacks on that area, but this pattern became predictable, and the Shade took advantage.

Lyvia thrust forward with Fyrn, trying to impale the Shade, but the gauntlet was there to meet the weapon, catching it deftly in its steel grip. Lyvia came down with a blow from Baen, but the Shade's sword intercepted it, the two weapons caught on their crossguards. For a moment they struggled, both weapons of both combatants trapped. Then the Shade moved to the side. Faster than Lyvia could react, the Shade released Fyrn and stepped to its right, maneuvering its blade out of the sword-lock and in an arc, coming to rest on the back of Lyvia's leg. With an infuriated growl, the Shade ripped its blade across Lyvia's hamstring, slicing through it completely.

The elf collapsed, dropping her swords instantly. She involuntarily let out a pained cry, but aside from this, there was little she could do. Her left leg was crippled and gushing blood, staining the grass around her red. Her breathing became heavy as the pain of the wound set in and she looked up to the Shade, her furious eyes meeting its now contemptuous gaze.

Everything seemed hazy to Lyvia, even as Teyri, recovered from the Shade's attack, charged the monster, dueling briefly with it. The gauntlet once again was the decider of the duel, catching Teyri's sword and allowing the Shade to smash its sword's butt into her chin. Stunned, there was little Teyri could do as the Shade pulled its gauntlet back, striking her in the cheek with the back of the metal hand. She flew to the side, stunned once more. The Shade bounded forward, a look of annoyed anger on its face, and kicked Teyri onto her back, pulling its forked sword back and driving it into her shoulder.

Teyri's agonized scream brought Lyvia back to reality, the haze lifting. "Where is the egg?" the Shade hissed.

"I'd rather suffer than tell you!" Teyri shouted through clenched teeth. The Shade withdrew its sword and stabbed down again, this time piercing the elf's collarbone. She screamed again, louder.

"I'll ask again," the Shade said, regaining its calm composure. "Where did you hide the egg?"

"You... won't get an... answer..." Teyri's words became slow and almost incoherent. "Die... before... telling."

The Shade sighed in annoyance. Lyvia struggled, grasping for her blades. In her fervor, she only grabbed Fyrn. Clutching the weapon tightly, she tried to get to her feet, using the sword as a crutch. Her vision was growing darker and her limbs growing weaker. She muttered a small spell to heal the skin around her wound, stopping the blood from leaking.

Irritated, the Shade withdrew its sword and leaned down, grabbing Teyri by the throat with its gauntlet. The fiend lifted her up effortlessly, holding her close and gripping her neck tightly. "I will ask one last time. If you do not tell me, I will kill you and torture your friend here. And she will not die until she tells me what I want to know. Now, will you spare her that and tell me?"

Teyri gagged as the Shade's grip constricted her throat, so the gauntlet loosened slightly, allowing her to give her final, almost delirious answer: "No."

With a growl of anger, the Shade crushed the elf's throat, almost decapitating her, and tossed her bloody, lifeless corpse aside.

Distracted as it was with Teyri, the Shade had not noticed Lyvia slowly limping closer, Fyrn acting as a crutch. She was almost close enough to strike. Just as she thought she had closed the distance enough, a blade held up to her throat made her halt. She looked to see one of the Ra'zac holding the weapon, keeping her back. Lyvia hissed in anger but remained frozen in place.

The Shade turned around, walking up to Lyvia. She tried vainly to stab forward, but the Shade deflected the blade with a flick of its wrist. Its gauntlet came around and grabbed Lyvia's sword hand, tightening and crushing the bones. Lyvia gasped in pain and Fyrn fell to the ground. The gauntlet then came up and struck her in the cheek, sending her careening backwards.

Sheathing its sword, the Shade plucked Fyrn up from the ground, examining the weapon. "Fascinating craftsmanship," the Shade remarked. "I always took a certain liking for elvish weapons. So elegant, yet so deadly. I suppose this one has wards on it, like the rest of them, that makes it stronger than your average steel sword?" It looked the weapon over once more, nodding. "Yes, it does. Not the same wards as those on the blades forged for Dragon Riders, but still potent nonetheless."

Lyvia had recovered by now and with effort she lifted her head up to watch the Shade toy with her weapon. The monster laughed. "Most consider elvish weapons nigh-impossible to break." It flipped the weapon over one last time and held the blade out horizontally. "Jierda," the fiend muttered casually. With a terrifying crack, Fyrn snapped in two, the blade flying off and landing on the grass. The Shade tossed the hilt aside with another dry chuckle.

The breaking of the sword only partially registered in Lyvia's mind, occupied as she was with her other wounds; she could not move her right hand, mangled as it was, and her hamstring, though mended on the outside, was still sliced open under the skin. She knew that she had no chance against the Shade, and instead determined to not tell it where the egg was.

The fiend reached down, grasping Lyvia by the throat with its right hand and lifting her up. She struggled against the Shade, but with no weapon, there was little she could do to fight it. The Shade brought her close, its cruel, crimson eyes meeting hers. "You saw what I did to your friend. You know I will not let you die until you tell me what I want to know. I promise you that if you tell me now, you will feel no pain in your death. If you refuse to reveal to me the egg's location, I will break you, and once I have the egg, I will leave you to die a slow and agonizing death."

"Now, with all of that being said, tell me now. Where is the egg?"

Images of her brother's bisected corpse were burned into her mind and strengthened her resolve. "Kill yourself," Lyvia managed to spit.

"Predictable," the Shade sighed. "Brisingr," it muttered, raising its gauntlet. The metal hand glowed white-hot; beads of sweat formed on Lyvia's forehead from the heat as the gauntlet came closer to her face. Her heart beat faster as one of the razor-sharp fingers approached her cheek.

Lyvia howled as the finger slowly dug into her flesh, carving a deep, bloodless line into her left cheek. Her unbroken hand latched onto the Shade's arm, trying to break its grip, to little avail. Even after she ran out of breath to scream, her mouth remained open in an agonized grimace as the bladed finger continued to run down her face, its heat charring her mangled skin before it could bleed.

At the same time, dread filled Lyvia as for the first time she felt the Shade's conscience touch hers. In an instant the fiend launched a mental attack, trying to get inside her head and invade her mind. Lyvia's eyes shut as she tried to concentrate through the excruciating physical pain, throwing up barriers in her mind to keep the Shade out. An image of Frewin filled her head and extinguished all other thought, her grief for her brother acting as a shield against her torturer's sudden mental offensive.

After what seemed an eternity, the finger left her face, leaving a thin, charred scar from her ear to her chin. Lyvia's screams turned to quick and ragged breaths as she tried to recover from the pain. Her eyes remained closed as she poured her concentration into her mental barriers, trying desperately to keep the Shade's constant mental assault at bay.

Agony broke any concentration Lyvia had built up as the Shade plunged its searing gauntlet into her left shoulder, the clawed fingers digging charred holes in her bones and muscles. Piercing howls again echoed through the clearing as the Shade released Lyvia's throat, holding her up by the molten metal gauntlet embedded in her shoulder.

The Shade's mental assault doubled and any walls were effortlessly battered down; the malevolent conscience invaded Lyvia's mind, seizing memories and sifting through them to find the location of the egg. Desperate, Lyvia turned the pain she felt into a wall, allowing it to consume her and drown out any other thought. The Shade was unable to find anything of value, its attacks once again failing.

With a frustrated growl, the Shade hurled Lyvia forward, further damaging her shoulder as the gauntlet left it. She landed hard on the ground, stunned and dazed from the torture. She tried to quickly recover, and with the pain gone, the Shade once again found a foothold, flooding her thoughts. Lyvia threw up a desperate defense, using any strong image to keep the Shade at bay. The image of Frewin's bloodied and bisected corpse, branded in her memory, acted as another wall for the Shade. Lyvia was momentarily rewarded by a scowl as the fiend grew increasingly irritated.

"Do you ever give up?" it growled furiously, approaching her once more. The pain from Lyvia's wounds accumulated, making it difficult for her to prepare for the next bout of torture; her broken right hand was even more mangled since Lyvia used it to try and break her fall as the Shade threw her forward; her hamstring burned with renewed vigor, the duress tearing it further; the slice on her cheek burned at the slightest provocation, gusts of wind being enough to cause the wound to sear; her shoulder was almost completely destroyed, and it racked her entire body with pain.

These injuries seriously damaged her concentration, and she feared she would not be able to maintain her mental defense much longer. She felt the Shade's attack renew and tensed, as ready as she could be for whatever the Shade had planned next.

In that moment, the entire clearing resonated with one small sound. _Squeak_. The Shade instantly turned around, as did the Ra'zac, searching for the source of the strange noise. Lyvia struggled to bring her head up. The sound came again. _Squeak_. The Shade ordered the Ra'zac to spread out and find what was making the noise. It came again. And again. The Shade approached the tree where Lyvia had hid the dragon egg, following the sound and looking around.

Lyvia rolled around, her entire body screaming in agony at the movement, and struggled to crawl forward towards Fyrn's broken hilt. The air caused the line on her cheek to burn again, and her shoulder rubbed against the ground, almost making Lyvia scream again. She slowly and painfully dragged herself to Fyrn's hilt, and her right hand wrapped around it, the mangled limb screaming; it was either use the broken hand or the destroyed shoulder. She examined her shattered blade; the jagged metal tip Fyrn's hilt-shard ended in was sharp enough

Armed with a weapon, Lyvia made her way slowly towards the Shade; her foe was closing in on the dragon egg, almost within reach of the invisible object. Mustering all her strength, Lyvia tried to crawl faster, again ignoring the searing agony that wracked her entire body. Her vision was dimming, and it was becoming difficult to see. She was closer to the Shade now, but the monster was right next to the egg. Another sound from it, as Lyvia believed the sound to have originated from the egg, and it would be discovered, making all of the efforts of every elf in the clearing, alive and dead, pointless.

Suddenly, a _crack_ resounded throughout the clearing. The Shade recoiled as the egg, previously unseen, made itself visible, shattering into pieces. Lyvia froze in horror as the egg split apart. Amidst the scattered dull shell fragments, letting out another tiny _squeak_, was a small, golden dragon.

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**And I leave it at a cliffhanger because I'm evil. That's also the reason I enjoy torturing my characters so much, if you haven't noticed. Hopefully everything there was somewhat believable (and hopefully there aren't any mistakes; I rewrote a good portion of this chapter a whole bunch of times). And I hope you guys like the new villain. I had some fun writing him, especially the parts that make him seem badass (effortlessly shattering an elven sword which, according to Inheritance, is extremely difficult to do). Until next time, thank you for reading, and good day!**

**Oh, and it would be _extremely_ appreciated if you could take the time to post some form of either compliment to stroke my ego (because we all need those) or criticism so I can improve my writing (which we all likewise need). If you could do that, it would be _much_ appreciated. **


	3. Wyrda

**Here's chapter 3. It is, admittedly, slightly shorter than the ones preceding it, but I believe it's as long as it needs to be. That being said, I hope you enjoy the read!**

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"Well, well," the Shade murmured. "Isn't that interesting?" It gazed at the dragon, seemingly deep in thought.

Lyvia had almost reached the abomination. This time, there was no Ra'zac to stop her. Gathering every bit of strength she still possessed, she launched herself forward, ignoring the screaming of her clenched right hand. Fyrn's shards were angled towards the Shade's heart.

The monster turned around blindingly fast, its left arm striking Lyvia's on the inside and bringing it to a halt. Without pause, the Shade's arm wrapped around hers and jerked upwards, snapping the joint. Lyvia cried in pain once more, and Fyrn fell to the ground again.

"Do you ever stop?" the Shade asked. The burning gauntlet clenched into a fist and struck the elf in the face, shattering her nose. Lyvia flew back from the blow, blood flowing from her new wound; her face carried a new burn in the shape of a fist, branded on by the strike. Lyvia was too stunned from the attack to scream, and her lungs could not muster the strength anyways.

The Shade approached slowly, now with its blade drawn. It stopped in front of Lyvia, looking down at the broken elf with contempt. "You are of no more used to me," it muttered, drawing back its sword and impaling Lyvia in the gut. The pain quickly brought her out of her reverie, and her mouth opened, releasing a soundless howl. Her vision grew darker as blood began to leak out not only from her nose, but from the two new holes in her chest.

The Shade pulled the weapon out and turned to the dragon, who opened its mouth and released a tiny growl, baring its teeth threateningly. "Unforeseen and inconvenient," the Shade muttered. "Pity." It raised its sword up, meeting the small dragon's eyes. Lyvia could do nothing but watch in horror as everything she determined to defend crumbled around her.

Suddenly, another sound interrupted the Shade. _Thud_. It sounded like a drum. The noise gave the Shade pause, and it hesitantly turned around. _Thud_. There was more force behind the sound now. _Thud_. Lyvia felt a dull pain in her ears from the concussion. _Thud_. The Shade and the Ra'zac were now fervently wandering the clearing, confused as to the source of the noise. _Thud_. The trees rustled, their branches bending from the force of each impact. _Thud._

A monstrous and terrible guttural roar filled the air, laced with fury, power, and ferocity. From the sky descended a massive crimson dragon, flattening at least two dozen trees with its landing. The Shade and its allies faced this new threat, weapons drawn. A figure dropped down from the huge dragon, a blood-red longsword drawn. His face was obscured by a regal-looking helmet, and he was garbed in polished plate armor. The crimson-scaled behemoth beside the rider inhaled once, and Lyvia's eyes widened. Looking once at the small golden dragon, she mustered what strength she could of the little that remained, choking out the words of the Ancient Language. "Skolir nosu fra brisingr!"

The clearing in an instant was an inferno; a stream of red flames engulfed everything. Lyvia was blinded by the bright light, but she maintained her defense nonetheless, her only goal now to protect the dragon, no matter the cost. She could not see the Shade, nor could she make out the Ra'zac; any sound was drowned out by the roaring fire.

The dragon's maw shut and the flames died out at once. The dragon's rider was standing amidst the now dead Ra'zac, his sword dripping blood. He had used the flames to blind them as he closed in. The Shade, unharmed by the fire, disregarded the losses and readied its forked blade. The rider's crimson sword raised, its tip facing the monstrous warrior before it.

The Shade laughed. "Very impressive, Dragon Rider." It adjusted the grip on its weapon, waiting for the battle to begin. Without a word, the rider charged forward and their blades met. Lyvia could hardly make out the duel, but it seemed even. The rider was extremely skilled, and was able to match the Shade blow-for-blow in speed and strength. The rider was careful around the Shade's gauntlet, maneuvering his sword to avoid the metal grip. The rider kept on the move, circling the Shade and forcing it on the defensive. For a moment the two combatants withdrew. "You can't win this, Rider!" the Shade taunted. "You can't beat me. Your energy will run dry long before mine!"

The rider made no response but continued his assault. Lyvia's vision was fading, so she was unsure, but it seemed like the Shade's face was contorted in a pained grimace, a sign of the mental battle taking place alongside the physical. The red dragon was content to watch the spectacle, seemingly confident in its rider's ability to defeat his foe.

The rider and the Shade dueled back and forth for a minute, but it became clear that the Rider's skill outclassed that of his opponent. The Shade incurred a number of small scratches and cuts born from a careless defense, but it kept on fighting nonetheless. Finally, however, the rider scored a major blow. He was able to maneuver his blade around the Shade's forked sword, slicing him almost from shoulder to hip. The Shade hissed in pain at the attack and backpedaled, keeping its sword pointed at the rider to keep him away.

"There's only one way this ends," the rider finally said in a confident and threatening voice, his words clear even through his helmet. "And it's not in your favor."

The Shade chuckled maniacally, as if he knew something the rider did not. "You're wrong, Dragon Rider." It relaxed its stance, loosely keeping its weapon at its side. "You will see me again."

Faster than the rider could react, the Shade brought its own forked sword to its throat. "No!" the rider shouted rushing forward, but he was too late. The weapon ripped through the abomination's neck, spewing blood. Despite this grievous wound, the Shade had a victorious grin etched on its face. Shadows engulfed it as its skin turned pale. The rider's sword was inches away from the heart of the fiend. The shadows dissipated, and nothing remained of the Shade. The blade passed harmlessly through air.

With a growl of frustration the rider stabbed his crimson sword in to the ground. The display of anger caught the dragon's attention for a moment. Lyvia looked at the great behemoth as its eyes flicked towards her, and for a moment, their gazes met. Huge fiery eyes glared at hers, and Lyvia took the opportunity to take in everything she could about the dragon.

Its two long, ivory horns formed a menacing crescent that also served as the dragon's brow. A short spike protruded from each cheek, and its fangs were visible even with its mouth closed. A long row of spikes starting at the base of its neck ran down its spine, where Lyvia saw a small saddle, placed in a gap between two of the spikes. The dragon's wings were massive, even folded, and Lyvia reckoned each one could cover a large house.

The sound of the rider wrenching his sword from the ground interrupted her observations. He rushed towards Lyvia and the dragon, kneeling down next to the dying elf. Placing his sword beside her, he muttered a few inaudible words in the Ancient Language, placing his hand over Lyvia's open wound. She groaned softly as the thin holes in her stomach mended. The burn on her face also healed, as did the thin line. The holes in her shoulder also healed, the torn muscles and bones excepting. Lyvia hissed as new skin covered her wounds; the process was not painless.

"I can heal the rest of your wounds," the rider said, the voice sounding distant in Lyvia's current state, "but it'll be painful. It's best to do it while you're unconscious." The elf nodded slightly and weakly in response.

With Lyvia out of mortal danger, the rider turned his attention to the dragon, making sure it was safe. The small creature was unharmed, but it paid no heed to the rider, ignoring him, its bronze eyes transfixed on Lyvia. She raised her head weakly, using up a great deal of her precious remaining strength, her eyes meeting those of the dragon.

The hatchling was about the size of her arm, with small studs protruding from its cheeks, similar to the short spikes on the red dragon. A line of growing spikes ran down its spine, starting at the base of its head to the tip of its long tail; there was a larger-than-normal gap between the spikes at a hollow where the neck and shoulders joined. Two stubs marked the dragon's growing horns. Ivory teeth were revealed when the dragon opened its mouth, releasing a small and playful growl.

Realization suddenly struck Lyvia; she had been too distracted by the Shade's torture to put the pieces together, but the dragon's gaze ended all doubt in her mind. The dragon had hatched for _her_. There was no other explanation. The bronze eyes were as much confirmation as was needed.

_Why me? _Lyvia asked herself, almost directing the question at the dragon. _Why hatch for me? _The creature cocked its head curiously. _What makes me so special? _

Doubts started to flood her, but she knew they were pointless; the dragon's decision had been made, and, amidst the chaos and the obvious danger, it had chosen this moment to reveal its choice, despite the risk of doing so. The dragon's beady, intelligent eyes blinked once.

It raised itself off of the ground, spreading its small wings. They were together several times larger than its body, ribbed with thin fingers of bone extending from the front edge of the wings' membrane, forming a line of widely-spaced, undeveloped talons. The dragon stretched sluggishly, oblivious to its surroundings or the danger it so narrowly escaped, scratching the ground with its small, slightly serrated ivory claws.

The rider did nothing, stepping back silently, eying the dragon; the creature again ignored him. With purpose, it took one step, then another, slowly approaching Lyvia. Her fingers twitched and her shattered right hand raised, racking the broken arm with pain; the action was reflex, and she could do little to resist it. The dragon came closer, sniffing her outstretched fingers inquisitively. After a brief moment, its triangular head tentatively nestled against her palm.

If Lyvia could have screamed, she would have. As it was, all she could manage was a gasp as every part of her body seared; she felt as if her veins were filling with molten lead. Every part of her felt as if it was on fire. It was far worse than what the Shade had put her through.

Amidst the excruciating experience, Lyvia felt something: an alien mind. It touched her conscience for the first time, as if it were familiar. Lyvia felt warmth and affection radiating from this new mind, and it filled her with a measure of comfort, despite the excruciating pain.

Lyvia's vision faded to black, but before she lost consciousness, she heard a voice in her head. It seemed strange and awkward, as if it were grasping a new concept. But the one word was clear enough, and it wiped away in an instant any doubts she still had.

_Lyvia_.

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**And so concludes chapter 3. There's lots of stuff going on, including the return of everyone's favorite anti-hero Dragon Rider, if you haven't guessed already the identity of this mysterious rescuer. As always, please, leave some form of feedback as to how the story is progressing. I know for a fact that I could always benefit with tips to improve my writing, as I probably need them. **

**Chapter 4 should come soon, hopefully. Thanks for reading, and good day!**


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